


you lost the starlight in your eyes

by Novaviis



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types, Titans (Comics)
Genre: Brain Surgery, Caretaking, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff and Angst, Freeform, Headaches & Migraines, Heavy Angst, M/M, Medical Procedures, Present Tense, Seizures, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novaviis/pseuds/Novaviis
Summary: So, Dick collapses.It comes out of nowhere. They’re in the kitchen one rare morning that they both have off. Wally is trying to follow his dad’s old recipe for French Toast, and Dick is doing the laundry. There’s easy banter and flirting and tired kisses with too much stubble because neither of them have shaved yet. Wally jokes about growing out a beard. Dick says he’ll leave him first - and easy on the sugar, he’s watching his hips. Dick goes into the laundry room and Wally calls to him down the hall about grabbing his phone or something from the bedroom.No answer.Wally calls him again. Dick walks out of the laundry room in a bit of a daze. Wally asks him what’s wrong. Again, Dick doesn’t answer. He just looks up at Wally and... drops.A compilation of the sick!dick saga from my tumblr.





	1. The Story

**Author's Note:**

> Idk, sometimes you just need a cathartic cry.

So, Dick collapses.

It comes out of nowhere. They’re in the kitchen one rare morning that they both have off. Wally is trying to follow his dad’s old recipe for French Toast, and Dick is doing the laundry. There’s easy banter and flirting and tired kisses with too much stubble because neither of them have shaved yet. Wally jokes about growing out a beard. Dick says he’ll leave him first - and easy on the sugar, he’s watching his hips. Dick goes into the laundry room and Wally calls to him down the hall about grabbing his phone or something from the bedroom.

No answer.

Wally calls him again. Dick walks out of the laundry room in a bit of a daze. Wally asks him what’s wrong. Again, Dick doesn’t answer. He just looks up at Wally and... drops. Wally catches him in the blink of an eye, lowers him down, freaking the fuck out because Dick is just starring off into the distance with his muscles all tense and he’s not responding for anything – and then it just stops. Dick snaps out of it, blinks and comes to. Wally speeds to the bedroom for his phone and already has 9-1- typed in by the time he grabs it and comes back. However, Dick manages to convince him that he’s fine. Probably just overworked and had a fainting spell, it was bound to happen eventually. He’ll take it easy for the day. Wally’s reluctant but they leave it at that.

Months pass, they move on. Dick is fine. They don’t think about it again.

There’s a Gala downtown for a charity that Wayne Enterprises is backing, and Wally is obviously Dick’s +1. It’s all gold and champagne and caviar and the Wayne boys casually wreaking havoc at every chance they get. It’s like every other big A-list event. There’s a few speeches and community awards, and then finally it’s an open floor. Wally and Dick are at a table with Barbara, Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian (Jason wouldn't go if you paid him). They're just talking and having a good time, ignoring the pop of camera flashes going off like glitter around them. Eventually, the band puts on a slower song, and Wally, being the suave motherfucker he is, tugs Dick up to come dance with him.

They walk out onto the Dance Floor and they hold each other and slow dance and whisper to each other in low voices just to make each other laugh. At some point Dick leans down and starts kissing Wally’s neck – or that’s what it feels like, because he’s got his mouth above the collar of his shirt and he’s breathing all open mouthed and wet, and at first Wally just laughs and tries to nudge him off. But Dick doesn’t move. Wally really would rather avoid ending up in the tabloids (again), so he gets a little annoyed and tells Dick to quit it – Dick just groans, and that’s when Wally realizes that something is very wrong. Dick is starting to lean too much on him, like he can’t keep himself up. His legs are giving out. He's not responding.

Wally starts to panic, holding onto Dick as he slumps against him, calling his partner's name as he lowers him down. Wally barely gets him on the floor before Dick starts seizing. It all gets too chaotic, too fast even for _him_ to keep up with. A crowd forms around him as he tries to stabilize Dick’s head, because he's pretty sure that's what he's supposed to do but he doesn't _know_. And suddenly Cass, and Tim, Duke, and Barbara are beside him, Babs screaming from her chair at someone with a camera to _“stop fucking taking pictures”_ , and Damian’s already pushed through the crowd to go get Bruce.

It’s too much.

In reality, it doesn’t last long, maybe forty five seconds before Dick goes still. Wally’s focus is singularly on Dick, because he doesn’t know what to _do_. He just cards his fingers back through Dick’s hair, makes sure he’s breathing, holds his head in his lap until Dick is opening his eyes – heavy and unfocused, but better than nothing. Bruce finally comes, the crowd parting for him on silent command, and takes immediate control of the situation. Any notion of a playboy persona is gone. He makes sure an ambulance is on the way, gets a glass of water, helps get Dick on his side and comfortable, and loosens his collar and necktie in case he starts up again. He's firm, but keeps his voice calm, and Wally follows his instructions in a sort of shocked autopilot. Eventually Dick is lucid again, exhausted as anything but still able to answer Bruce when he’s asked what his name is, the year, what he last remembers, things like that.

The ambulance comes. They follow it to the hospital, and Dick is taken to a room – but Wally isn’t allowed inside. Family only. It doesn’t matter that he’s been with Dick for years, that they live together, that he’s his everything. It’s family only. Bruce argues, because this is his family’s damn hospital and this is ridiculous, but Wally cuts him off before things get heated. He doesn’t care, he just wants someone to be with Dick right now. Bruce sends Wally a look that’s surprisingly compassionate before he finally follows the nurse down the hall. Wally is left for an agonizing hour, sitting with an equally anxious Barbara in the Waiting area, before he’s allowed in to see Dick - who’s bright eyed and alert as ever, like it never even happened.

Once is a concussion, twice is a condition. They don’t make the same mistake twice.

But the Doctors can’t figure out what it is. It’s not epilepsy, he wasn’t triggered by anything, and they can’t find an abnormality to explain it. They think it’s hereditary. Problem is that Dick doesn’t have _any_ family records. He’s an orphan, and even before that his family spent generations in the Circus, and so far as Dick knows they didn’t keep health records even if he _could_ find them. And he was so young when he was orphaned that he can’t remember any other family that may have suffered from something similar. He has nothing. So, until they figure out what this hereditary condition is, they can’t really do anything about it but treat the symptoms.

He could be dying. It’s terrifying.

Dick isn’t about to put a stop on his life, though. He takes his medication, he checks in on himself regularly, goes to his appointments, and luckily because the seizure was a one-time thing, he doesn’t lose his license – and more importantly, he doesn’t lose his job as a Police Officer. Wally is constantly nervous, but he tries not to hover. They’re honest with each other about this. Dick lets Wally come along with him on patrol more often to put his mind at ease. It’s scary, but Dick can’t live in a plastic bubble. Besides, so far as they know, it was a one-time thing.

He goes ten months without incident. There are a few dizzy spells, and some migraines that leave him in bed for a whole day, laying across Wally’s chest with the lights off and the window closed. They take it in stride, make sure Dick’s taken his medication because he’s not always in a state to remember and Wally can only do so much. Within that small margin, though, Wally does everything he can do. It’s only a few spare times, so he’ll call in for the day and lay in bed watching movies with Dick, turning the volume low and the screen so dark they can just barely see it. He makes sure Dick drinks water, and eats even though he doesn’t want to, and slips his hand under Dick’s shirt to rub circles on his back when the pain has him clenching his teeth. Still, that’s about it. Ten months, and it’s quiet.

Then they go to the West family Thanksgiving dinner in Keystone. Dick is feeling off that morning, but he chalks it up to nerves. This is the first time he’s actually been invited by this conservative family to any event. He’s met them all before of course, because invited personally or not Wally has always brought him along in stubborn defiance, but this time its different. This time they’re making an effort to include him, finally realizing that he’s a permanent part of Wally’s life. Okay, so _maybe_ it’s just because Barry and Iris are finally hosting that year, but that’s beside the point. No one protested. It’s a big deal. So, it’s totally normal to feel a little off –kilter, right?

And all things considered, it goes well. Until he’s talking about forensics with Barry in the dining room.

Normally, Wally would be all over that convo (God knows they can’t ever watch Crime shows together without tearing them apart), but the twins have decided that his time is better used playing Horse in the living room. Barry is talking to him and Dick just… sort of fades out. Stares into the middle distance. His glass slips out of his hand and shatters on the floor. Barry realizes something is wrong and just barely catches Dick before he goes down.

He calls for Wally. It would be a lie for Wally to say that he didn’t use a bit of his speed to get into the dining room as soon as possible without anyone noticing. He’s been afraid of this coming back, but at the same time, he has been obsessing over what to do for months. He should be ready – he still doesn’t feel like it, but he does what he knows. He shouts at his other Uncles to move the table, because it’s too close and they need room in case Dick starts moving too much. Iris is already cleaning the glass away, asking Wally if Dick has any medication he needs. Wally just barely has the frame of mind to answer, telling her to get it out of Dick’s coat pocket at the front door. By the time Iris comes back with the bottle and a cup of water, the fit has already stopped.

In the aftermath, Dick is covered in sweat and panting for breath, but he’s able to squeeze Wally’s hand when Wally asks him to. It’s enough for now. Surprisingly, Wally’s father is the one who steps up and gets the rest of the family to stop crowding – things aren’t good between them, but they’re getting better, if just slowly. It takes both Wally and Barry to get Dick down the hall to the spare bedroom. They’ve already settled that Wally and Dick aren’t going anywhere, they’ll stay the night and take it easy. Dick wakes up to the warm dark room after an hour, and the first thing he says is that this is fucking humiliating. When Wally tries to tell him he doesn’t have to be embarrassed, Dick fires back that he just had a seizure in front of Wally’s entire family, he’s got every right to be embarrassed. Neither of them are really in the mood to argue though. Wally only goes outside the room once to tell his family that Dick is okay, and to get a few slices of pie for dessert. Dick only takes a few bites before falling asleep against Wally.

The inevitable happens.

Bruce calls Dick over to the Manor one night, and they both already know what this conversation is going to be about before Dick even enters Bruce’s study – they’re both ready for the argument. Bruce wants Nightwing off duty until they can figure out what is happening to him. Dick, of course, isn’t ready to back down, because for _fuck’s sake, Bruce_ , it’s only happened a few times over the span of a year, the chances of it happening while he’s on duty are slim to none. Bruce insists that it’s not a chance they can afford to take, because it’s not just Dick’s life on the line here, it’s innocent people that could get hurt by proxy if he’s not at 100%. The argument goes on, and while the other Wayne siblings and Wally can hear most of the shouting from the kitchen, they don’t intervene. Bruce keeps listing on the reasons why he’s calling this, like what could happen if Dick has a fit mid-swing on his grappling hook, or in the middle of a gun fight, and Dick is just repeating Bruce’s name, but Bruce is still going through his list, until – _Bruce_. 

When Bruce turns around, Dick is already pale. Dick just looks at him, and says " _Bruce… I’m about to lose this argument,"_ before collapsing. Wally hears the crash of Dick falling, and Bruce shouting his name as he tries to catch him, and is in the study in half a second.

After that… yeah, it’s hard to come back from that. Nightwing is taken off the roster.

Dick goes back in for testing. It’s long and agonizing and in the end Dick is exhausted and Wally is beyond frustrated that it’s taking supposedly the best Doctors in the region to figure out what the fuck is wrong with his partner. Thing is, he can’t show too much of that frustration because he’s already pushing limits by being there with Dick already when it’s supposed to be family only. They could, realistically, kick him out at any time. He minds his temper as much as he can, but it’s _hard_. The way one of the Doctors describes the predicament clears things up a little, at least. They _could_ theoretically test Dick for the four hundred conditions and diseases with these same symptoms, and they are more than prepared to do that, but it is going to take time that they might not have. If they knew Dick’s family medical history, they’d have a better shot at figuring it all out faster. In the end, they’re left exactly where they were at the beginning of this nightmare. No answers.

A week after Nightwing is temporarily retired, Dick gets called into his Captain’s office. With his medical condition worsening, it’s a liability to have him on active duty. He could put himself and others in danger. The Captain basically gives him the same speech that Bruce does, and Dick has to clench his fists to keep from snapping. He’s known that this was coming. Effective immediately, he will be on desk duty only, but if his seizures become more frequent, he’ll be put on medical leave. None of his coworkers say a word when he comes out of the office, avoiding his gaze and carrying on as normal, as if they already knew what was coming. Dick says nothing. He goes straight to his desk, waits an hour for his shift to be done, and storms out. No one can even look him in the eye.

When Wally gets home that night, Dick isn’t there. He doesn’t really think anything of it at first, calls Dick and leaves a voicemail to let him know when he gets off work, texts him a few times, and calls a few times more before he really starts to worry. He calls the precinct – Dick left a few hours ago. Now, the panic starts to set in. Wally goes a little manic, trying to contact Dick, calling Bruce, getting in touch with anyone who can help look for him. Tim, levelheaded if not worried, tracks his phone to a safehouse the Bats use from time to time, an abandoned gym in the centre of the city. Wally runs out there.

He’s nothing short of furious when he arrives and finds Dick at work in the gym. Wally storms in and shouts at Dick to come down from the high bars, that he was fucking _terrified_ that he’d had a seizure in the street somewhere, that he was hurt and alone, that he shouldn’t be straining himself in the first place because he’s supposed to be taking it easy, God damn it – Dick doesn’t listen. It’s like he can’t even hear him. Dick ignores Wally entirely and just pushes himself harder. Wally only goes silent when Dick lands in a crouch from the high bars, and his eyes are bloodshot red, like he’s being crying for hours. Dick says nothing. He just walks past Wally and starts going to town on a punching back. Just like that, the anger fades away, and all that’s left is concern as Wally calls out, quieter now, for Dick to take it easy. Dick is just wailing on this thing, like he’s only ever done to the most vile criminals, maybe worse. Again, Dick doesn’t listen. He doesn’t let up until finally he starts to sway on his feet, his punches landing flat and his kicks nearly knocking him off balance.

Dick collapses. Wally is there, catching him and lowering him to the ground before he can hit the mat. Dick isn’t seizing, but he’s gripping his head and gritting his teeth and breathing like he’s at the same time choking and trying not to throw up. He’s in _fucking agony_ , and that’s finally what it takes to break him. Dick completely breaks down in Wally’s arms. He’s been so strong up until this point, he’s kept everything in, took everything in stride, but _fuck_ , he’s watching his entire life slip through his fingers and he doesn’t even know _why_. Wally holds him close, keeps his own tears at bay as he comforts Dick as much as he can. They go home once the migraine subsides enough for Dick to walk. In the apartment, Wally closes the blinds, gets Dick his medicine, and they just lay in bed together until Dick exhausts himself into sleep.

It’s too real now.

Dick gets worse. Not just in terms of seizures. He’s tired, and vertigo and migraines are keeping him lethargic and in pain. He is, at heart, still Dick Grayson, so he tries to keep a good attitude, but it’s fucking hard. He’s exhausted and in pain most days, and while he tries not to take that frustration out on the people around him, he isn’t exactly the same beacon of optimism that he was before.

All of that comes to a head. Another hospital visit, another round of diagnostics and changing treatments, another day that Wally is forced to sit and wait outside. Family only. Whether or not the Doctors are _gracious_ enough to let him in varies day to day and is dependent on the Doctor leading the appointment - and don't think Wally doesn't know _exactly_ what that means.

They go home, and Dick drops on the couch while Wally finishes up dishes from earlier. He comes into the living room when he's finished, sits at the edge of the couch, cards his fingers through Dick’s hair, and asks him if he wants to order in dinner, if he needs anything. Dick doesn’t respond. He closes his eyes, leans into Wally’s hand, and when he finally opens his once-vibrant blue eyes, says only one thing: _marry me._ Wally’s taken aback at first. Of course he is. They’ve both always known that they would end up married, had even talked about it a while back, but with Dick’s declining health, it was sort of put on the back burner. Wally smiles, says of course, they’ll get married as soon as Dick’s better – but Dick doesn’t let him finish. He wants to get married _now_.

Now, Wally’s suspicious. His smile drops. Why does Dick want to get married _now_? Dick starts to explain that he just wants to have this, just in case – and Wally cuts him off there. No. Absolutely not. They’re not doing anything “just in case”. Wally gets up and tries to walk away, but Dick follows him, swaying on his feet. Wally turns back and tells him to lay the hell down, that they’ll talk about this _later_ , that they’re not having this argument right now, but Dick’s pretty fuckin’ adamant about having this argument _right now, Wall._

Wally wants to marry Dick. But he wants to marry him because he loves him, not for anything else. He wants to get married on _their_ terms.

Dick snaps. Because, fuck, at the end of the day he just wants to make sure that they will let Wally into the room when he _goes_.

And how the hell is Wally supposed to respond to that? The silence in the aftermath of that world shattering statement is deafening. Wally is quite for a long moment, before dropping his head into his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath that seems to shake through his entire chest. Dick tries to speak, but Wally stops him. He walks up to him, holds him close, and kisses Dick’s forehead. Just tells him to go lay down in the bedroom. He’ll bring him something light to eat later, but he needs to get some rest. It’s been a long day. Dick doesn’t argue this time. He kisses Wally’s cheek and heads into the bedroom. He falls asleep within ten minutes.

Dick wakes up several hours later, and though it’s faint and he’s still half-asleep, he swears he can hear Wally crying in the kitchen.

Dick has a good week. He doesn’t suffer any migraines or vertigo, he’s adjusting better to his medication so he’s not as tired, he doesn’t have any fits – it’s a small victory, but it’s the best he’s felt in months. With it comes a sort of foreboding, knowing that it won’t last, that soon enough he’ll be right back in hell, so he doesn’t take it for granted. He still takes it easy, if only to save the people he loves the heart attack, but he enjoys feeling _good_ while it lasts. He’s almost like his old self again, more lively and bright, without that heavy fog of fatigue and illness clouding his smile.

Because he’s been on a streak of good days, Wally asks Dick out of the blue one morning if he wants to go out that night. Just on a quiet date, somewhere nice. The weather’s been good too, so Wally woos him over with talks of patio dinners and maybe a glass of wine. Dick doesn’t take much convincing. Wally just smiles and says good, because he’s been planning this date night for a while and it’d be a damn shame if the other half of the date didn’t show. Dick does mention that he’d like to get a light workout in while he’s feeling up to it, and oddly enough Jason offered to go with and spot him. Wally fakes surprise and it’s super obvious. It should have been suspicious.

So, Dick spends some time at the gym in the Manor, just some running and light stuff – he doesn’t risk the high bars today, not wanting to push a good thing and ruin it. Jason is being really… weird, though. Dick just brushes it off as him not wanting to be back at the Manor at first, but he’s almost drawing things out, distracting him so it takes longer to finish his routines. Then, all at once, he’s all about wrapping things up, pushing Dick toward the showers so he can get cleaned up and ready for his date. It _really_ should have been suspicious, and in a way it is, but it’s easier to just brush off his brother being a weirdo.

Dick showers off and gets changed into the sort of casual formal wear he usually wears on nicer dates (though his and Wally’s definition of a “nice” date is anywhere that _doesn’t_ have a condiment stand). When he’s ready, he heads upstairs, expecting Wally to pick him up. Wally is there, waiting for him, but the car isn’t. Barely holding back a grin, Wally suggests that they take a walk before they head out, enjoy the weather y’know? Dick doesn’t want to be late if they have reservations somewhere, but Wally just laughs and tells him not to worry about it. So, they walk out to the garden. It really is a nice night out, just before dusk when the sky is stained with peach and lilac. Dick is so busy admiring it at first that he doesn’t notice when Wally stops.

When he does, he turns, and finds Wally down on one knee.

 _“You’re fucking kidding.”_ The words leave his mouth before he can think properly, but he’s got the biggest smile on his face and his eyes are already watering.

 _“Not on your life, Boy Wonder,”_ Wally grins back and faulters for a second as he reaches into his pocket. _“I’m gonna be totally honest, I had a big speech planned about how much I love you, but… you look so damn good tonight I think I forgot all of it. So, what of it? You wanna get married right now?”_

Dick is already nodding and pulling Wally up to his feet before he finishes, so it takes him a moment to register the _right now_ , but he does, he asks Wally what he means. Wally is slipping the ring on his finger when he tells him that this was technically _Dick’s_ idea. As he takes Dick’s hand and leads him around to the back of the Manor, he prefaces that they don’t have to do it like this, that there’s no pressure, that everyone knows the deal and if he doesn’t want to they’re just having a nice little party. Dick’s head is still swimming, and he can’t make sense of any of it until they walk around the corner and there’s a _fucking wedding_ set up. It’s small, just immediate family and their friends (Wally’s family, aside from Barry and Iris, is missing but no one points it out). A little aisle, some fold out chairs, flowers and string lights all set up on the back lawn of the Manor. Dick is in total shock at first, and Wally is afraid he’ll be pissed that he essentially planned their wedding without him, and stammers out that they’ll do this for real one day, and he still stands by the fact that they’re not doing this “just in case” but he knew that this was what Dick wanted and it was worth the peace of mind – Dick just kisses him and tells him to shut up and marry him already.

It’s a quiet and simple ceremony, no bells and whistles, the officiant is from the court house, and it’s all tied up neatly within minutes – and no flash photography. The music is quiet in case Dick gets a migraine. At the after party, just a little dinner that Alfred was more than happy to put together, there are no dance lights – but hell, it’s no boring. It’s a night of laughter and love with friends. It’s all they need. Later that night, as they’re sharing their first dance, Wally feels Dick lean into him with his head on his shoulder. He feels a light wetness on his neck. For a single, terrifying moment, he’s reminded of that night at the Gala that started all this hell, when Dick collapsed against him just like this. He pauses, asking if Dick is okay, heart in his throat – but Dick just smiles and pulls back enough to show Wally that he’s just a little teary, that this is the best night of his life and he didn’t think it was possible to love him more. They’re married now, it’s official, and nothing can tear them apart.

And it’s not as if that was the “calm before the storm” and everything went to shit after that. Nothing that cinematic. There are rocky days, and there are good days, and there are very-bad-no-good-at-all days. Things continue on as before. Dick and Wally just take things one day at a time. Dick gets slammed with a migraine at work, and Wally has to pick him up and tell him regretfully, hours later when he’s a little more coherent, that he’s being put on sick leave. Dick does not take it well, but in a begrudging way, knew that it was inevitable.

Then, months later, Wally gets a call from Dick while he’s at the lab. He leans back in his chair and answers it casually, assuming Dick’s just calling to talk, maybe sort out dinner or something. All he can hear on the other end is heavy breathing. Wally sits upright in a second. Dick hasn’t had a seizure in nearly a year at that point. He was stupid enough to believe they wouldn’t come back. Dick sounds like he’s struggling to say Wally’s name, and all Wally can think is that he should have called an ambulance, that he would have if he’d been in the right mind, but Dick is clearly _not_ in the right mind at that moment and the first thing he’d thought of was to call his husband. Wally’s knuckles are while around the phone as he asks Dick is he thinks he’s about to have a fit, and when Dick stammers out a yes, Wally tells him to stay calm, to lay down on the living room rug, and that he’ll be there – the sound of the phone dropping has Wally on his feet and _running_ out in a nanosecond.

Wally arrives at their apartment in seconds, but it still doesn’t feel fast enough. Dick is already in a full seizure, dropped in the bedroom. Wally hates that he knows what to do now, and goes through the motions calmly on the outside even as his heart is racing. The seizure slows down, and Wally gets Dick’s medicine, some water, and waits for him to come to.

But this time he doesn’t. Minutes pass, and Dick doesn’t stir back to consciousness like he usually does. His eyes are half open, but unseeing, and as Wally starts to panic, Dick starts to seize _again_. They were always told to try to handle it on their own and let it pass unless something is wrong. Something is _really_ wrong. Wally calls an ambulance, drops the phone halfway through the call, and has to put it on speaker while performing CPR because _his husband isn’t **fucking** breathing, where the fuck is the ambulance?! _When the ambulance does arrive, Dick is breathing again, if just barely, and they don’t protest when Wally jumps into the back with him.

It’s an hour later that Bruce walks into the hospital room. Wally is sitting beside the bed with Dick’s hand in his, pressing his knuckles to his lips as he stares at the heart monitor like he’s counting every pulse. Dick is still unconscious, covered in wires, pale enough that the gold band on his finger looks like it’s sitting against paper. Bruce scrubs his hand down his face and lays his hand on Wally’s shoulder. He spoke to the Doctors. They’re doing everything they can.

Wally just slowly shakes his head. No, they’re _not_. But he will. Bruce asks him what he means. Wally doesn’t respond at first. Just takes a long, memorizing look at Dick, before standing up and leaning across the bed, pressing a firm, almost desperate kiss to his forehead. When he straightens up again, he looks back at Bruce. The Doctors said they needed Dick’s family medical history to be able to properly diagnose him, to predict where this illness was going and how to treat it. Fine. If they couldn’t find the Grayson medical history, Wally was just going to have to find the Graysons.

He can’t help but find it bitterly ironic that after everything he did to make sure he was allowed in that room, he was now walking out.

Wally isn’t sure where to begin. The Graysons had been in the circus for generations, and although not everyone born into the family had stayed, those that scattered to the wind had married, remarried, moved, and all but vanished into thin air. Even those that hadn’t pursued the family tradition of acrobatics had mostly passed away at that point. Dick has few living relatives, and none that had been close or well enough to take him in. Orphan’s lot.

So he starts at the beginning, or at least the only logical beginning he can think of. He gets his hands on Dick’s birth certificate. Through that, he starts to build a family tree. He knows all too well what had happened to his parents, Aunt, and Uncles, so he doesn’t bother with their Death Certificates. However, through each Birth Certificate he can find on record on (illegally hacked but no one has to no that) online databases, he can start to piece together a picture of each branch of the family before the murder. He finds Dick’s Grandparents on his mother’s side, but his paternal line is a dead end. He knows that Dick has a living Uncle, paralyzed in the fall at Haly’s Circus, so at least there isn’t total loss of hope.

Wally does most of this research at the Library just down the street from the hospital, so he can get on public databases without so many walls to work through. If he’s not at the library, he’s in Dick’s room, working from his computer. He only goes home to sleep when visiting hours are over, always with a bitter taste in his mouth as he walks out knowing that he shouldn’t wish too hard that he could stay the night – he knows that they’ll only let visitors stay after hours when they know a patient is about to pass. He calls in to work and takes a leave of absence, met with no resistance from his Boss given the circumstances – it’s all over the news at this point.

_Billionaire Bruce Wayne’s Adopted Son Admitted to Intensive Care._

_Dick Grasyon Eloped In Secret Wedding To Gay Lover._

_Drugs To Blame For Leaving Wayne’s Son In Coma?_

_Insider Tells All In Dick Grayson Case – You Won’t Believe What Really Happened!_

Wally ignores it, or tries his best to anyway. The Media mostly ignores him, and the few times bullshit paparazzi have tried to hound him for pictures and questions, he’s shouldered his way through. He’d love nothing more than to break their fucking cameras _and_ their noses, but he’s in a race against him and can’t be bothered to spare a moment for them. That sentiment isn’t entirely shared by the whole Wayne Clan, though – Cass kicks a journalist following her and Tim home from school in the face after he make some comment on Dick _having it coming with his immoral lifestyle._ Bruce is already gladly handling the Lawsuit without batting an eye. His only public comment is that he is proud of his daughter for her strong conviction to defend her family. No questions.

Dick is – well, he is awake. Sometimes. It's a little hard to tell. He’d been in a coma for several days before finally coming out of it. He sleeps a lot, but even when he is awake he isn't quite there. Seizures are becoming more frequent. When Wally is there, he is a little better, holding onto his husband’s hand and just listening as Wally whispers to him. Still, there are no disillusions – he is going downhill fast.

Dick’s mother’s side has been a little easier to track down, but no Death Certificates showed any clues through the cause of death – no related illnesses. And the fact that Wally has been focusing on Death Certificates is an irony that is not lost on him – he knows that’s where Dick is headed if something doesn’t change. He gets to a point that he can somewhat safely rule out the maternal side. So, that leaves the paternal side. It really is the Graysons, so far as he can tell anyway. It could branch off somewhere, but that’s beside the point. Dick’s Uncle, Richard Grayson, has finally responded to his attempts to contact him.

It fucking kills him to do it, but Wally leaves town. He gives Dick a kiss goodbye when he’s still asleep, tells the family to call him if _anything_ changes, and heads out across the country to find him. Richard has been living in Oregon since the Fall. He explains, when Wally first arrives, that he’d been hesitant to reply at first because he knew Wally’s connection to Dick. He’d always felt guilty that he had been unable to take Dick in after their family’s deaths, and his own trauma coupled with that had lead him to avoiding the matter entirely, something he deeply regrets. However, when he’d finally opened the message and actually read what was happening, he’d contacted Wally immediately. Wally assures Richard that he has no grudge against the man, that he understands, and just wants to find help for Dick.

Richard informs him that he recalls his father telling him about a few family members that had passed away either suddenly or very slowly, depending on the circumstances. It’s a painful reminder of what could have happened to Dick so many times if he hadn’t been there for his seizures. Richard gives everything he has on the family, all physical copies of death records and the like. Wally pours over them for days. They’re not specific, and its clear that often times there wasn’t the technology present at the time to accurately diagnose each person’s death. However, a sort of pattern emerges; sudden fits, loss of consciousness, chronic migraines, and some gruesome head injuries from falls. The cases in the family are few, but they’re present, and it’s enough for Wally to be able to paint a picture of what has happened to Dick and where it could lead – ie, nowhere good.

Finally, Wally has a break through. He’s been calling every hospital and town record office he could get a hold of trying to get more information, and it’s mostly been dead ends. Half the time, the only reason he gets any information at all is because he’ll email them his marriage certificate to prove that he’s Dick’s husband – and once again the bitter irony hits him that this is the only way he’s making progress and _he’d_ been the one that was so selfishly against it at first. In any case, one hospital claims that they can’t give out patient information without consent, and the patient in question is very private.

Wally doesn’t even care. They’re a current patient. Which means they’re alive.

As soon as he can, he books a flight out to Singapore, where Thomas Grayson is living as an expat at an In-Patient care facility. He’s a distant cousin of Dick’s – or uncle. To be honest, Wally’s not entirely sure, didn’t really have the time to count out the distant of the relation, but it doesn’t matter. It’s enough. He’d Zeta out there if he could, hell he’d _run_ if it was faster, but he knows he has to leave a paper trail if he’s going to come back with any sort of diagnosis. So, he takes a plane.

He’s on the plane, sitting on the runway after a long layover in Tokyo when his phone starts ringing – it’s Tim. Wally’s heart fucking stops cold, and it’s all he can do to keep his hands from shaking when he answers the phone and raises it to his ear. The poor woman sitting next to him looks a bit alarmed, but Wally pays her no mind as he forces himself to speak without his voice breaking. _“Hello? Tim? What is it, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”_

Tim responds with a bit of a tremor in his voice, taking Wally’s rushed questions in stride. _“It’s fine, nothing’s wrong – well, I mean… I mean Dick’s okay, nothing’s really changed, he’s just…”_ There’s a bit of a commotion in the background, and Wally can just make out Dick’s voice underneath the stronger tones of Bruce, Barbara, and surprisingly enough, Selena. _“He’s just having a hard time. The Doctor’s say he’s not coming back to baseline after his last seizure… sort of like he’s half asleep. He’s got a migraine, so he’s having trouble calming down. He, uh… he keeps calling for you. Do you think maybe you could try talking to him?”_

 _“Yeah,”_ Wally replies without hesitation. _“Yeah, of course. Just hold the phone up for him.”_

There’s rustling and movement on the end of the line, and the voices growing a bit louder as Tim seems to get closer to the bed. After some more movement and murmuring that Wally can’t quiet pick out, the line goes silent for a moment, and then all he hears is Dick’s breathing, broken by whimpers and hitched sobs, sounding so unlike _Dick_ that Wally feels something inside him shatter. Surely enough, just as Tim said, between incoherent moans, Wally catches hints of his name.

 _“Dick?”_ he breathes.

There’s a long pause before a response. _“Wall…”_

Wally swallows past a thick lump in his throat. He leans against the cool glass of the airplane window, looking out at the lights of the runway, tears already blurring his vision. _“Hey, babe,”_ he tries to smile, hoping Dick can hear it in his voice. _“Tim told me you’ve been having a rough time, huh?”_

_“Wall… where…? I n-need… here…”_

Fuck. Wally closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and just takes in a slow breath to keep from falling apart. _“I know, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t be there right now, but I’m going to come back real soon okay? I’m trying to find you some help, and then I’ll come back, and you’ll be okay. You’re going to be just fine, alright?”_

 _“Wall…”_ Dick’s voice cracks horribly. _“I-I… Wall…”_

A hitch rises up in Wally’s chest, and he has to clench his teeth just to keep from sobbing. He’s never heard Dick like this. _“Listen to me, baby. You’re gonna be okay. You don’t have to talk, just listen to my voice. I’m right here. I’m right here with you. I love you so much, Dick. I’ll be back soon, and you’ll get better, and we can pretend none of this ever happened. How’s that sound? But for now, you’ve got to calm down. Just take deep breaths, okay? I’m right here.”_ His voice is a low, soothing whisper as he talks sweet nothings with tears running down his cheeks

 _“W-Wally…”_ It’s just a bare breath of his name before suddenly the line erupts into chaos. There’s rapid movement, blaring monitor alarms, and an uproar of voices. Bruce’s voice is a deep thunder rolling over the others, calling Dick’s name, demanding help, trying to keep everyone under control. Wally listens in complete fucking horror, as the phone is dropped and the call abruptly ends.

People are staring at him. Wally doesn’t care. In that moment, it’s all he can do not to jump out of his seat and run back out into the airport, to book a flight back to America as soon as possible. But the doors are already closed and the plane is taxiing out onto the runway for take-off.

There are tears streaming down his cheeks as he slowly lowers his phone. He holds it between his hands, folded as if in prayer and pressed against his forehead, elbows on the tray table. He stays like that for the next seven hours, with no reception and no chance of finding out of his husband is already dead until the plane lands.

Wally doesn’t rush off the plane. When the plane lands and taxis to the terminal, the lights come on and passengers start bustling, gathering their luggage from the overhead bins and shuffling down the aisle – but Wally just sits there, white as a sheet, until the person behind him clears their throat and gestures to the aisle to let him out. Trying so fucking hard to keep from shaking, he gets his bag and joins the flow of passengers off the aircraft, mindlessly shuffling up the gangplank and into the terminal. No one asks why his hands are shaking, why his eyes are red, or why his skin is so pale. It’s a large airport in the middle of the night, and everyone is tired and focused on getting home.

So, when Wally just stops between the rows of chairs at his gate, his bag strapped over his shoulder and his head hanging low as he stares at the ground, no one notices. It’s entirely quiet in the terminal, the murmur of voices and footsteps fading as the other passengers head home.

Wally’s too scared to check his phone, but knows that he has to do it or he’ll stand there until morning. He’s already exhausted, running on too little food and too little sleep as he chases a cure for his whole world around the globe – but not he’s not sure if it was all worth it. He’s not sure if he has a home to shuffle off to in the middle of the night anymore.

Taking a deep breath and willing himself to move, Wally slips his phone out of his pocket and turns on his cell data. A missed text from Tim. Wally’s knees buckle, and it’s all he can do to shift himself into an uncomfortable chair to keep from falling. With all that pent up energy from the past seven hours suddenly exploding, he can’t open the text fast enough. Dick’s voice, distressed and panicked and in pain, echo in his head.

_Hey. Dick’s okay. Sorry, my phone got knocked out of my hand. Things got a little scary for a while, but he’s alright. Just asleep again. Doctor says it might be best for you to come back soon. That’s all, I guess. TD_

Wally’s phone falls into his lap. Digging his hands into his hair, he crumbles in on himself and just lets himself sob out all that pent up fear and adrenaline and relief. The prognosis doesn’t sound good but anything is better than _gone_.

As much as he wants to just run to his destination now, he knows he’s not likely to get a welcoming answer in the middle of the night. Once Wally’s gotten a hold of himself somewhat, he picks up his bags and checks in at a cheap hostel and spends the next several hours between restless sleep and staring at the ceiling clutching his phone, dreading a call to tell him that his whole world went out with a whimper. He’s beyond exhausted by the time the dawn comes, but he can’t stand lying in an uncomfortable cot any longer and heads out as soon as the sun peeks up.

Wally arrives at the In-Care facility nearby Singapore General Hospital. He doesn’t make it past the front desk, the staff won’t let him in because he’s not on Thomas Grayson’s list. Even explaining that he’s Thomas’ distant cousin’s husband doesn’t cut it. Wally decides that he’s had enough of hurdles and closed doors. He’s come all this way, he’s not leaving without answers. So, he uses his powers to run to the nearest alarm, an emergency assistance button far down the hall. The clerk at the front desk only looks away for a moment, but it’s all Wally needs. He uses his speed again to check what room Thomas is in, and then runs past the security before anyone can even blink.

He hesitates at the door with his fist raised before gathering the courage to knock. The man who answers the door, with the chain lock still on, is in his early 40’s, and in all honesty doesn’t look too much like Dick – but those piercing blue eyes are an unmistakable family resemblance. However, the ashy patches of discoloured skin that litter his body catch him off guard. Thomas brushes him off, says he doesn’t have any appointments and doesn’t need anything, and nearly shuts the door. Wally tells him he doesn’t work for the facility, he’s here because he needs to talk to him. Thomas tries to shut the door again, but Wally shoves himself in the way, bracing his hands on the edge of the door and the frame, _pleading_ , because he’s here for his cousin, Dick Grayson. Chances are he has the same thing Thomas does, and if Wally doesn’t go back to Gotham with answers he’s going to _die_ , _please._

Thomas pauses, eyeing Wally up and down before asking “John and Mary’s boy?”. Wally nods, and for a moment it looks like Thomas might turn him back anyway. However, after he closes the door, there’s the rattling of the chain coming off, and the door opens again. Thomas lets Wally inside. Wally steps in awkwardly, a little overwhelmed by the kidney dialysis machine, and the way everything in the apartment is pretty much fall proofed – but it’s also covered in incredible photographs, and he peeks around a corner to see a fully functional blackroom for photography. Thomas clears his throat, and gestures to the couch. It’s a vision of what Dick could be in the future, even if he makes it through this downward spiral – confined to one space, pale and fragile.

Wally takes a seat, and waits for Thomas to take up his own chair before launching into his explanation. He’s Dick’s husband, and Dick’s started getting sick over the past two years. He explains what Dick’s symptoms have been, and how they haven’t been able to find a proper diagnosis without his family records, because his immediate family is killed, and “well… the rest of you have been hard to find.” Thomas just listens in silence before commenting that he’d heard about the tragedy that came over that side of the family years ago, but his parents had left the Circus life and he’d never known them that well.

But, if Dick needs his help… Thomas gets up and walks over to his computer. He prints out a stack of paper, info he’s already had on file, and clips them together before handing them to the younger man. Wally’s vision narrows down to the text. Their family has a rare hereditary form of a disease that starts with seizures and migraines due to small tubers growing in the brain, which can then lead to tubers growing on other organs, like in Thomas’ case, the kidneys. Thomas also gives him copies of some of the few medical documents in the family, from his parents, who suffered the same illness. Wally is overwhelmed with gratitude, and as much as he’d like to hug the man, he can tell that Thomas isn’t exactly the hugging type. He’s only sorry that he has to come and go so quickly after getting what he needs, because he needs to get back with this as soon as possible. Thomas assures him he doesn’t mind, and he has a photography project to go work on anyway, so he doesn’t have the time for company. With the promise to find some way to thank him, Wally takes the documents and heads straight to the airport.

As he sits in the back of a taxi swerving through traffic, he takes out his phone and sends Tim one text.

_Tuberous Sclerosis Complex. WW_

The next twenty four hours are a complete blur. Wally manages to get a flight from Singapore to Tokyo, from Tokyo to Las Angeles, from Las Angeles to Dallas, Dallas to Atlanta, and fucking _finally_ Atlanta to Gotham. All the while he’s only got his dingy travel bag, his phone, and those papers pressed and protected between the pages of a hard cover colouring book he bought in the Tokyo airport specifically to keep them safe.

He’s running on fumes by the time he makes it to Gotham. With barely enough patience to stop at the front desk and show his ID to be let in, he races up to Dick’s room and nearly trips through the door, holding the Documents out and thrusting them at the closest Nurse checking over the still form in the bed.

Too still. The Nurse shifts in clear confusion as she takes the papers, and Wally’s sure she’s talking, but everything just sort of – slows down. Because she’s moved away just enough for him to see Dick, and he’s white and still laying on the bed, eyes closed and lips just barely parted and… suddenly Wally’s head is too hot, like all of the heat in his body has been confined to a roaring inferno in behind his eyes and in his chest, searing his throat shut.

There was a moment amid the chaos of trying to find Thomas Grayson and then racing home, Wally can’t even remember exactly when, that this thought crossed his mind. That he’d come home and he’d be just a little too late. That he would walk in and Dick would be gone, and none of it will have mattered. That he would have let Dick down in the one thing he’d wanted if the worst came to pass. _Dick just wanted him to be there._ He just wanted Wally to be there to hold his hand if he slipped away and _Wally let him down, he let him down, he let him down_ -

But then Bruce’s hand is on his shoulder, strong enough to shake him. Wally is exhausted, jetlagged, hasn’t slept or eaten properly in days, and it takes him just that one moment too long to realize that Dick’s heart monitor is still beating. He’s still breathing.

The Nurse has already taken the documents and called the Doctor. There’s talk of gene tests and an MRI and new treatments, but it all fades into background noise compared to the steady, strong beeping of the heart monitor.

Wally stumbles over to the bed. He’s aware that the others are in the room (Bruce, Alfred, all the siblings), but his focus narrows down to Dick. He can barely keep himself up, so he sits on the edge of the bed and smoothes the hair back from Dick’s forehead. Dick’s eyes open. Even that one miniscule movement looks like it takes all of his energy, but it’s the most beautiful goddamn thing Wally’s ever seen when those piercing blues look up at him. It’s just a shame that his vision goes blurry with welling tears after only a second to admire them.

 _“Hey, babe,”_ Wally smiles. _“Did you miss me?”_

Wally doesn’t really expect Dick to answer, much less understand him in this lethargic state. Dick stares up at him for a while, and Wally is just happy to card his fingers back through his hair and let the past several days drain from him. But then Dick shifts his hand just enough to wrap around Wally’s on the sheet with a barely-there squeeze, and it’s all Wally can do not to sob as he leans down and kisses his forehead.

When things calm down a bit, Wally takes a shower. He’s barely got the energy to stand, but he feels grimy and disgusting from days of travel with no rest. He needs it. So, he uses the ensuite in the hospital room, the entire bathroom designed to be clinical and accessible with handles on the walls. As steam fills the room and fogs the glass and mirrors, Wally takes a while to just stand under the hot spray like it’ll just wash the image of Dick from his mind, so pale and still he’d thought he was dead. The shower makes Wally feel better, but that image is going to stay with him forever. When he comes out, and towels off, there’s a knock at the bathroom door. Alfred brought him some fresh clothes. Wally takes them with his thanks, finishes drying off and getting changed, and goes back out.

Dick is awake, if only barely. Wally goes back over to his bed, and Dick just sort of shifts over as much as he can, asking Wally to lay down with him but unable to really get the words out. It breaks Wally’s heart, but he complies, and carefully positions himself so he can lay beside Dick without getting in the way of the monitors and tubes (he swears that they’ve doubled since he left). Dick rests his head on Wally’s chest, and they both drift off. When the Doctors return and try to argue that Mr. West really shouldn’t be in the patient’s bed, and that visiting hours will be over soon, Bruce just shuts it down. Because that young man just traveled across the world to get the answers that could save Dick’s life, that young man is Dick’s husband, and that is the _best_ rest either of them have gotten in weeks. They need this. Neither Dick nor Wally wake up during that conversation, and Wally doesn’t even stir until it’s late into the night.

Wally is allowed to spend the night whenever he wants.

Once Dick’s diagnosis is confirmed, things finally start moving. His condition differs slightly from his distant cousin’s, with the tubers centralized in the brain more than the kidneys or other organs. They caught it in time before it could spread with irreversible damage. Dick is slowly transitioned to new medications to minimize the tubers, and it’s a rough few days as they kick in, leaving Dick ill and aching, but slowly the colour returns to his cheeks. Light and life return to his eyes.

One morning, Dick wakes up, and looks at Wally (sitting beside the bed, going through lab reports from work he’s missed) and just rolls over, propped up on his elbows, to kiss him. For the first time he’s really awake and coherent enough to realize just what Wally had done for him. Wally is shocked enough by the coherency and movement alone. Hearing Dick chuckle at the look on his face is enough to shake him out of it. It’s little moments like that that Wally doesn’t take for granted. He comes into the room one afternoon after a visit to the lab to pick up more work and reports he can do from the hospital. Dick is sitting upright in bed, with Damian sitting at his feet, and Jason, Cass, Duke, and Tim all sitting in chairs on either side. Dick is just setting down a “Pick Up Four” Uno card when Wally walks in, and Cass makes a face and sticks her tongue out at him while the boys all boo the eldest brother. Wally laughs and sets his bag down, taking a seat on the bed next to Dick. He calls across the room to Bruce on the sofa in the corner, asking why he’s not playing. Tim informs him that he’s a sore loser and stopped playing after he lost two rounds. Wally’s more than happy to play in his place and picks up a few card. They play until Dick gets tired, slowly drifting off with his head on Wally’s shoulder.

Finally, when Dick is well enough to both consent and undergo it, the Doctors suggest a procedure. Brain surgery. He’s a good candidate for the RNS system, a sort of pacemaker for the brain that could treat the frequency of his seizures if not stop them all together. They’ll need to operate to remove the tubers that were too large for the medication alone, and then install the device flush with his skull. The talk lasts hours, with the Doctors explaining everything clearly and patiently, and Dick, Wally, and Bruce asking questions. Finally, Dick agrees. It’s terrifying, and risky, and though Wally is tense, he supports Dick’s decision without second thought. This is the best chance they have at Dick having a normal life again.

The surgery date is set, and once Dick is responding to new treatments, he’s allowed to go home. Well, not quite home. Dick is reluctant to agree to it at first, but he and Wally end up temporarily moving into the Manor. Try as he might, Wally can’t be with him every second of the day, and at least at the Manor there’s more room and freedom for Dick than their tiny apartment, and more people around in case something happens. So, they agree to stay at the manor in the months leading up to the surgery, but first spend a night at their apartment to pick what they need.

Words cannot describe how Wally feels, holding the door open for Dick to walk inside, watching as Dick kicks off his shoes and flicks the lights on. Wally’s really not been spending much time in their apartment aside from stopping in to pick up things and clean so it doesn’t get dusty, but even in those short visits the place has always felt dead and empty. Now, what was missing had come back. Wally just wraps his arms around Dick in the middle of the living room, the both of them just taking a minute to hold onto each other and let the past weeks of hell to fade into just that – the past. Dick falls asleep, laying across Wally’s chest, as they watch a movie that night. Wally gently prods him awake and guides him into the bedroom to sleep more comfortably, and can’t help but revel in how quiet the room is without whirring monitors and hospital staff outside the door.

Things are quiet like that for the next few months. Dick and Wally live at Wayne Manor, in a suite big enough that they have their own personal space (and more importantly _privacy)._ Dick has the occasional migraine still, but he only has one seizure, and even that is in the library one night while he, Wally, Duke, and Tim are hanging out. He has enough time to warn them, if the fact that he goes quiet and pale isn’t an indicator enough. Wally catches him, lowers him down, and takes care of him through it like it’s second nature. _“You’re alright, babe, I’ve got you. Just let it pass.”_ Not ideal, but so much better than where Dick could have been had Wally not gotten that diagnosis. This, they can handle.

Over the course of that time, there are of course appointments, weekends spent at the hospital to prepare for the surgery and the like. Dick is told, during one of the last visits before the set date, that because of the nature of the operation happening in two stages (the removal of the tubers and the installation of the RNS), and the operating team will most likely have to shave his head once he goes under.

And it’s such a stupid, vain little thing, but Dick really struggles with that. His hair’s always sort of been part of his identity, and he _knows_ it’s not tied down to that, but fuck it, he’s allowed to be a little bummed out. So, a few days before the surgery, he drags Wally into the bathroom and hands him a pair of clippers. The last thing he wants is to wake up from surgery, already feeling fucking awful, and have that depressing moment of seeing himself without hair. That’s not what he wants. So, he sits on the edge of the bathtub with a towel around his shoulders and another on the floor, and Wally shaves his head. When it’s finished, and there’s a pile of soft, thick black hair littered in clumps all over the floor, Dick looks in the mirror. It still looks like him, but distinctly _not_ him. Wally catches him sort of focused on his ears, reaching up to flatten them against his head, and remembers that when they were kids, Wally used to make fun of his ears. He used to call him Trophyhead. It was something that they’d laugh about.

So, Wally takes Dick’s hands off his head, kisses him. Tells him how _sexy_ Dick looks with a buzzcut. It’s a small gesture, and it means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of Dick’s treatment, but it means the world.

The day of the operation comes.

They head out to the hospital at the ungodly hour of 4:30 in the morning, when Gotham city is still and quiet – well, for Gotham it is. They check in, they get lead up to the private room, and Dick gets changed into his gown. He’s already got a headache, and he’s shaky from not being allowed to eat anything since the day before. It’s easier to brush it all off as just that rather than nerves. Even Wally’s fingers are shaking a little bit as he helps Dick tie up the back of the gown. This isn’t something to scoff at. It’s fucking _brain surgery_. Every time Wally thinks about Dick’s head getting cut open and operated on, he wants to vomit, but he keeps his own anxieties at bay for Dick’s sake.

The staff comes in, check up on Dick, have him sign a last consent form, prep him for the operation, and otherwise Wally just tries to keep him distracted until it’s finally time to go. He leans over the bed, kisses Dick on his lips, his cheek, and his forehead, whispering to him _“You’re going to do great, okay? It’ll be over before you know it. I’ll be there when you wake up,”_ before he has to let go.

Dick is surprisingly calm now that it’s zero hour, but he gives Wally’s hand a squeeze and mouths _“I love you”_ as the nurses wheel him out.

Wally is left behind, watching the doors close. The waiting begins.

The surgery is scheduled to take six hours.

Everyone had known that ahead of time, was well aware that it would be a long day and had the opportunity to plan accordingly. Wally brought along some work, lab reports and new studies to go through, a few books, even wore something vaguely comfortable knowing he’d be in the waiting room all day. Because Bruce had covered everything and gotten Dick a private room, he still has access to that, but the waiting room down the hall from the OR is as close to Dick as he can get, and comfortable enough, so he stayed there – as if it’ll really make a difference. He heads over there once a nurse comes by the room as he’s packing up to tell him that Dick just went under and the surgery had begun.

So, he takes up a place in the OR waiting room. The sun’s barely come up yet, just faintly glowing over the dark city outside and the lines of traffic. He gets a coffee from the shitty little Keurig bar in the corner, and starts on his lab work. He’s desperate for something to take up his time, anything to distract him from wondering exactly what was happening in the operating theatre at that moment. Wally had obsessed over the procedure for the past few months, learning everything he could about every stage, every incision, every risk – those were the nights he couldn’t sleep, while Dick was half draped over his side snoozing unaware. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he’d hoped it would be a comfort when the day finally came.

He was very, very wrong.

Because now all he can think about is imagining what was happening and what could go wrong, all the while knowing that he was helpless to do anything.

These are the thoughts he tries to drown out. So, he buries himself in his work, lets himself get absorbed completely into it. By the time he finally finishes up the last paper and tucks it away into his bag, he figures he’s killed a good chunk of time.

It’s only been half an hour.

He’s going to go fucking insane.

Wally’s too antsy to even attempt to read his book now that he’s aware of just how slow this day is going to move by. In any case, he’s sure he’ll accidentally blow through the entire thing within maybe an hour, and then he’ll be left to stare at the clock for the next four and a half hours, slowly losing his mind with anxiety. Not about that. So, Wally kills a bit of time watching the little TV sitting on an end table in the corner, flipping through the channels until he finds an inoffensive news station. He flips to old school cartoons on commercial breaks. The only reason he doesn’t stick to the cartoons is because it only reminds him of when he and Dick used to hang out when they were kids, arguing over Scooby Doo while they ate their breakfast. Hell, it just reminds him of when they did the same thing a month ago.

Eventually the Wayne Clan trickles in. Bruce arrives after the first hour, with Damian and Cass in tow. They come with muffins and breakfast sandwiches and coffee, just about half the menu from the Café across the street to both settle their appetites _and_ the anxious speedster’s. They sit down and ask how the morning went so far, if Wally’s heard any updates just yet. Wally fills them in on the little that they missed, just how Dick had been feeling before going into surgery, things like that – but no updates. Nothing just yet.

Slowly, throughout the morning, people continue to trickle in. Alfred joins the family with Tim and Duke, Jason shows up not long after. Selena stops in, and Wally can’t hear what she and Bruce are saying when they’re sitting in the corner of the room whispering, but she’s holding his hand in both of hers and he seems – a little at ease, at least.

After the first three hours, a Nurse finally slips into the waiting room. Wally is on his feet in a fucking instant, moving so fast that even _he_ gets a little light headed. Though maybe that’s just the fear.

There were more nodules on the brain than they had anticipated. They have to clear them all before they can move on with the next stage of the procedure. So, the surgery is going to take a little longer than expected in order to do it safely. The Doctors predict that it’s likely going to be another two hours. Wally takes this all with a numb sort of acceptance, but as soon as she leaves, he drops into his chair and scrubs his hand over his face, trying to keep from shaking. Unexpected complications. Bad news, understandably, _wasn’t_ the first update he wanted to receive.

People trickle in and out throughout the day. The family stays the whole time – Duke, Tim, Cass, and Damian took the day off from school so they could be here. There are periods of quiet, of sitting in the waiting room with the drone of the TV, of trips to the cafeteria to get food and stretch their legs. It’s the middle of winter, and a little bit overcast, with snow building up steadily on the large glass skylights and windows in the cafeteria. Wally only leaves the waiting room on one of those little excursions once, and he spends the ten minutes waiting in line for a shitty lunch wrap staring up at the falling snow in a bit of a daze. It’s snowing, and Dick is in brain surgery, a silly little thing to think about but something that sort of drives home the fact that he never thought he’d be here at this moment.

Then there are periods of visitation, of friends gathered together in the waiting room. Clark, Louis, and John visit for an hour, and by the time they head out, Donna, Garth, and Roy are just coming in with Lian in tow. They share memories from their early days in the Titans, laughing and talking and always careful not to tread into “the old days are over” territory – they don’t want to just remember Dick because they’re afraid of him not coming out of that operating room. So, they keep things light, or try to at least. Every time they find Wally staring at the clock, bouncing his leg in nervous habit, they’ll draw him back into the conversation. At some point Wally can’t remember, he falls asleep leaning against Donna. When he wakes up from his catnap, Barbara’s there, and Lian has presented him with a crayon “Feel Better Soon” card to give to Uncle Dick that nearly chokes him up.

As much as they’d like to, the Titans can’t stay all day. The Waiting Room is already getting crowded, and they won’t be able to see Dick until tomorrow anyway. So, they head out within the last hour or so with hugs and silently communicated comfort.

They hit the eight hour mark. There’s nothing anyone can really do to keep Wally from pacing anxiously at that point. The eight hour mark passes, ten minutes, twenty, and half an hour that Wally swears feels more like a fucking decade. Finally, someone comes to the room. Not a nurse this time – the Surgeon, still in his OR scrubs, with the mask pulled down over his face. It takes Bruce squeezing his shoulder to get Wally to stand and approach him, feeling like his legs are about to give out. The room is _so_ quiet. The snow is still drifting down peacefully outside. The world outside is turning on, and despite the fact that Wally’s been wanting the day to go by faster for hours, all he wants now is for time to stop and let him catch his breath. 

The operation was a success.

All of the tuber were removed, Dick will start on medications to keep them from growing again once he recovers, and the RNS system was installed perfectly, and will be invisible under Dick’s scalp once his hair grows back. He will have to get the battery changed every 8 years or so, but that’s a minimally invasive procedure and won’t take more than an hour. The device will suppress his seizures in real time, and will be able to give his Doctors updates on his brain activity with just a scan – just like scanning a barcode. The Surgeon then starts to go into the healing process, how long Dick will have to stay in the hospital and all of the aftercare information, and although Wally listens with rapt attention to absorb everything, there’s a small part of him that’s still in shock, holding in all the pent up relief.

The Surgeon asks Wally if he has any questions. Wally can only get one thing out. _“When can I see him?”_

The Surgeon just smiles and tells him that Dick will be in isolated recovery for another hour before he’s moved back to his private room. He can see him then. When the Surgeon leaves, and its like the room had been a vacuum for the past eight and a half hours, and no one had realized it until then. Now they can breathe. The Bats don’t really do Group Hugs, but the relief is there, powerful and immediate. And, surprisingly, the next hour doesn’t really feel that long. Wally spends most of it contacting friends and heroes and family, telling everyone that the surgery went well and Dick’s alright. When the time finally comes, and a Nurse swings by to say that they can see Dick (he’s still asleep, try to keep things quiet, and all that), the rest of the family decides to take the chance to go out for a quick dinner. They know that Wally and Dick will want a bit of time alone.

And as Wally is being walked down the sterile halls of the hospital toward Dick’s room, he can’t help but remember the last time he’d felt this anxious in these same corridors. From the first time Dick had a seizure at the Gala, to following after the bed holding Dick’s grip in a vice after he found him on their apartment floor, to racing back from Singapore praying he wasn’t too late. Every time, he’d almost dreaded arriving at the room, fearing that it’d be the last time he saw his best friend. Now, he was just anxious to see Dick, to recover and put this behind them, to continue on with their lives together.

He walks into the room. The lights are off, and the snow has started to pick up outside. Everything is calm and grey out the window, with the distant haze of street lights and the city glowing through the blizzard. Wally takes a seat beside Dick’s bed. He’ll be the first thing Dick sees when he wakes up, but for now he’s in no rush. They’ve got all the time in the world, now.

Hours later, Dick opens his eyes. Wally doesn’t actually realize that he’s holding his breath, shot up from his chair and leaning over the bed, until his husband’s gaze meets his. He doesn’t breathe again until he sees the recognition, the life there. A smile twitches at Dick’s lips. Wally completely deflates, lungs just shy of burning, as he breathes easily for the first time all day.

An hour later, a mass text goes out to their friends and family. It’s a picture of Dick, in his bed, with a pair of sunglasses fit over his head, at a bit of an awkward angle because of the bandages. He’s holding up a peace sign and grinning tiredly at the camera. Wally’s arm is just barely visible in the corner of the shot, holding up the phone.

The caption reads: _I lived, bitch._

In their defense, they planned that out before Dick went under.

And, well, recovery is recovery. Dick spends most of that day in and out of sleep, and they just take things easy. It’s way too familiar at this point, the family being in a hospital room, surrounding Dick in a bed, hooked up to wires. They’ve spent far too long in this exact setting, they’re too comfortable with the sounds of the machines and the scent of disinfectant. Still, in a way, this feels different. So long as all goes well, this will hopefully be the end of an era. A really shit era, but nonetheless they can all feel a chapter coming to a close. As much as the family still argues, still disagrees, still grates at each other… this ordeal has brought them all closer.

The snow is soft and piling high, the afternoon fades on into evening, at by nightfall that Wayne clan’s gone home. Dick and Wally lay comfortably in the hospital bed and watch videos on Wally’s laptop until, halfway into a Bob Ross painting video, Dick falls asleep for the night. Wally spends another hour just staring between him and the window, just allowing himself to breathe well into the night, before he finally succumbs as well.

The Doctors plan to keep Dick there for about three days before he can be released. Each day he’s a little more himself, a little more awake and aware. Wally helps him walk around the room a bit each day to help keep up his strength, and actually makes _notes_ on how the Nurses take care of the bandages and incisions, and what to do through recovery. Dick laughs a bit at one point, reassuring Wally that they’ll be given a whole lesson and pamphlet about all that, but Wally insists that he get as much info and experience as he can. It would have been dorky had it not been so adorable.

For his part, Dick tries to be a model patient, but… well, he’s _impatient_ , that’s the problem. He can’t even sit up too fast (something he learned the hard way when he got excited to see Barbara and he got so dizzy his vision blacked out. He had to listen to Wally lecture him on and off for the rest of the afternoon). He’s just so tired of people walking on eggshells around him, treating him like he’s made out of glass. Now that the finish line is in view, that this is all almost _over_ , Dick just wants to get there already. Can’t always get what he wants though.

On the third day, the day he’s supposed to be able to go home, Dick gets hit with a migraine so severe he’s almost desperate for them to just knock him out. The Doctors are trying to adjust his medication accordingly, whispering in the corners of the room about the possibility of tests and scans to make sure nothing’s amiss, the possibility for going under again, while Dick vomits onto his gown because he can’t get to the bucket fast enough. And he’s on the verge of sobbing through gritted teeth, can hardly breathe through it. The world is tilting upside down and his bone marrow has been replaced with molten lead and his skin is peeling back piece by piece and soon there will be nothing felt of him because _it was supposed to be over_.

Through it all, Wally is a steady presence, understanding of Dick’s frustration. His touch is grounding, light enough not to overwhelm Dick, and just about the only comfort he has. Even Wally has to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at the Nurses who keep trying to get Dick to open his eyes when they’ve got the fluorescent lights on overhead, trying to ask him questions when he can barely breathe let alone speak. It’s rough. But it doesn’t last forever. They switch out his medication, the sudden change in chemistry has Dick sleeping for the rest of the day, and it passes. They keep him for another two nights.

Finally, give days after the surgery, Dick is released. Their friends had planned a small Post-Surgery Party at the Manor for when he got back, but Wally calls ahead and tells them that Dick is just too tired. So, when they get back, Wally helps Dick up to bed, and there’s a cheap box cake waiting for Dick in the fridge with Donna’s elegant hand writing reading “You’re Our Hero” in blue frosting, and poorly drawn smiley face courtesy of Garth.

And thankfully, after that, it’s mostly uphill. There are good days, and bad days, but that’s nothing they haven’t handled before – and they’re all seizure free. Even the migraines start to subside as Dick continues to recover. Every day, he’s more like himself. Still sleeps a lot, but that’s to be expected. He’s on the mend.

Two weeks after the surgery, Dick and Wally move back into their own apartment (which they return to find perfectly dusted and cleaned, courtesy of Alfred).

Six weeks after the surgery, Dick returns to desk work at the Precinct.

Four months after the surgery, Dick returns to active duty, so long as he’s accompanied by another officer.

Six months after the surgery, Dick gets his license back.

There’s a moment, about seven months in, that Wally walks in on Dick in the bathroom just after he’s gotten out of the shower. He’s throwing a bit of product in his hair, towel wrapped around his waist and – well, it just sort of hits him. Dick had lost a lot of weight during this ordeal, and though he’d never been stick-thin there had been a noticeable difference during the worst of it. Now, Dick’s filled out again, started on light work outs to get back in shape, and his hair’s grown back nearly to what it’d been before. You can’t even tell he’d had brain surgery months ago. The scars are covered by his hair, and he looks _healthy_ again… and now Wally doesn’t have to think twice before jumping his husband’s bones in the bathroom.

Slowly, Dick introduces the idea of returning to Hero duty. It’s a touchy subject, one that they argue about a _lot_ , but in the end, Wally gets onboard. The idea is terrifying, but he knows how important it is to Dick. Gradually they get Dick back in fighting condition, taking things slow when they need to. The first time Dick goes back to training on the high bars and acrobatic equipment, Wally is tense enough to break his jaw just from clenching it so hard. He’s ready to take off at the speed of light the second he sees Dick falter – and Dick does. It’s one little slip of his hand, and he nearly falls, but just as Wally speeds out to him, Dick manages to catch himself and finish the move safely. He lands in front of Wally with the biggest grin he’s worn in months. Maybe even the biggest since their Wedding Day.

Nightwing returns. The first night Dick goes out on patrol again, Wally is suited up next to him. It’s not just a precaution, Wally isn’t there to babysit Dick. It’s more than that. They’re partners. They always have been.

They’re standing on a rooftop, the city lights of Bludhaven glowing below. Wally puts his hand on Dick’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “I know you’re ready,” he says after a long period of comfortable silence. “But I just… I need you to know.” Wally looks Dick in the eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m always gonna be here to catch you.”

And that means more to Dick than he could possibly put into words. In so many ways.

It’s not just in the literal sense, when he says he wouldn’t have made it through this without Wally. Not just in the fact that he chased live-saving answers from across the world, just to get him a cure. Not just in the fact that he kept him alive the day he stopped breathing on their bedroom floor. Not even in the fact that Wally has been there to physically catch Dick every time he’s fallen. Wally has been there for him through the emotional highs and lows, every time he’s been too sick to get out of bed, every time he’s been frustrated and angry with the cards he’d been dealt in life, and he has never _once_ complained. Dick knew without a doubt that he would do the same for Wally in a heartbeat if he needed to, but to be actually faced with this kind of selfless love on a daily basis is overwhelming. His friends, his family, he never would have survived this if it hadn’t been for all of them. Dick has a safety net. Wally will always be there to catch him.


	2. Damian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this from an Ask wondering how Damian was coping with it during the worst of Dick's illness and figured I'd just add it in here!

Damian doesn’t want to be at the Gala that night. He’d rather be doing a million other things, and while he recognizes the importance of Father’s public persona, the whole affair is so unnecessarily gaudy. So, he puts up with it, but just barely, with absolutely no patience for paparazzi beyond playing his part. He certainly doesn’t have any patience for Grayson and West and their prodding at him to lighten up. The two of them are unbearable together, even more so at a public event like this. However, Dick did promise to let him in on a smuggling case if he behaved, so he complies.

At some point Wally makes a comment about _giving the press what they want_ and grins as he tugs Dick up to the dance floor. Cameras go off as they start to dance together, and Damian is honestly too busy scrolling through his phone to pay much attention. He’s sitting at the table with Barbara, Cass, Duke, and Tim. _At least Todd was allowed to reject the invitation_. Father is off somewhere in the ballroom crowd, probably talking business or taking questions. Damian would honestly much rather be with him and taking part in those discussion than being confined here. So, he keeps himself busy until he hears Barbara say that _something is wrong_ in a foreboding tone. 

Damian looks up just in time to see Wally struggling to hold Dick upright, calling Dick’s name as he slumps against him. Now, Damian prides himself on being prepared for anything, calm and collected in any situation, but he hesitates. When Barbara takes control, already pushing her chair away from the table, and tells him to go find Bruce, Damian doesn’t argue - because Dick is on the floor now, convulsing, and there isn’t time. Damian sprints through the ballroom, shoving Gotham Elites out of his way until he finds Father holding a glass of wine and laughing in a group of men and women. The moment Bruce sees his youngest son running to him in obvious distress, that laughter dies and concern takes its place. He sets his glass down on a table and ignores everything else as he knees down and braces his hands on Damian’s shoulders, asking what’s wrong.

_“Father, it’s Dick, he collapsed on the dance floor, I think he’s having a seizure.”_

And then its the chaos of flashing cameras and Father’s commanding voice, and Damian standing back watching as Dick slowly comes to, and the paramedics coming and going with Dick on a stretcher, and the tense car ride to the hospital, and Wally’s distressed pleading to be let into the room until finally he gives in and just tells them to go. Even Damian can tell that Father is ready to tear the place down board by board at this treatment, and he has half a mind to stay behind with Wally (not out of comfort to West, of course, but for the principle of the matter). In the end though, he follows his family to Dick’s room. He’s already almost recovered by the time they walk in. 

That’s how it starts, from his point of view. 

See, the thing is, Dick is the only one in the family who isn’t hell-bent on reforming him, or understanding him, or trying to make him something he is not. With ‘Grayson’ he’s just allowed to be himself. He can let his guard down, even if just a bit, when when he _doesn’t_ let it down, Dick doesn’t try to make him. He just lets Damian be, doesn’t _try_ to understand him, because he already does. So... needless to say, even if Damian doesn’t admit it outright all the time, they’re close. 

And having seen Dick like that, not because of any enemy that Damian can take down but because of something that none of them can control, is _hard_. Damian wants to be able to fight, threaten, beat, and intimidate this thing looming over Dick’s head, but he can’t. So, at first, he ignores it. Grayson will be fine. He is fine. 

But slowly, he’s not. Father forces him into retirement as Nightwing, he’s put on sick leave at the GCPD, and his condition worsens. It doesn’t happen all at once, it’s over the course of almost two years, but when it starts to go downhill, it’s noticeable. Every time Damian sees Dick, it seems like he has just a bit less energy, that he’s just a bit paler, a bit more pained. Damian notices how Wally is so hyperaware of Dick at all times, like he’s waiting in dread for him to collapse, and really, Damian cannot blame him.

Damian goes over to Wally and Dick’s apartment one afternoon, because he’d gotten into an argument with Bruce and just wants to be out of the Manor for a while, maybe go through a few case files with Dick while he’s there. Dick gave him a spare key ages ago with the express permission to come by whenever he wants or needs to. So, when his knocking at the door receives no answer, he figures that no one’s home, and uses his key, thinking he’ll just wait on the couch until Dick gets home. 

When he walks in, the lights are all out, so for a moment he assumes he was right - but he can hear sound coming from the bedroom. Dropping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the door, he walks slowly toward the bedroom door, but before he can knock, Wally opens it from the other side. He looks almost haggard, the worry lines on his face deep. 

Wally pushes his hand back through his hair, looks back over his shoulder into the dark bedroom, and back at Damian. “Hey, sorry Dami, Dick’s, uh... he’s having a rough day,” he whispers.

Damian looks past Wally into the bedroom. Dick is laying in bed, leaning halfway off the mattress as he wretches violently into a bucket, before rolling back and holding his head. He’s sweaty, and his breathing is hitched and uneven, and his teeth are clenched so tight the veins in his neck stand out. “I can... I apologise, I should have called first, I can come back another time-” 

Wally waves off his apology, telling him its fine and that he can stay here as long as he needs. The couch is all his. Dick just probably won’t be coming out for a while. He can help himself to the food in the kitchen, but he’s going to watch TV or listen to music, wear headphones, and try to keep the lights off. Damian complies, sending one last glance into the bedroom at Dick, before Wally closes the door and heads back to tend to him. 

Damian ends up falling asleep on the couch that night. When he wakes up in the morning, he’s got a blanket over him, and Dick is making pancakes in the kitchen. Dick tells him good morning, and throws a pleasant apology over his shoulder for not being able to see him last night. Damian tells him not to be an _Idiot, Grayson. And there had better be blueberries in those pancakes_. 

Damian doesn’t want anything to do with the impromptu “Wedding” at first. The whole event just seems depressing, and he mentions that they shouldn’t be doing this “just in case something happens to Dick” as he’s watching Wally and Alfred set up chairs. Wally freezes at the comment, closes his eyes, and tells Damian he knows. That’s why they’re not. In the end, even Damian has to admit that it ended up being a nice evening. 

And then, several months later, his teacher answers a call from his desk, and walks over to Damian’s during a study period to tell him he’s wanted down at the Office. Damian doesn’t think much of it until he’s walking down the halls of Gotham Academy and sees Duke, Tim, and Cass all headed in the same direction from the High School wing. When they get to the front office, Father is there. Dick was admitted to Intensive Care.

Damian spends most visits sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest, looking anywhere but at his brother’s bed. Tim gets frustrated at one point, tells him he’s being childish and selfish, spending all of his time avoiding Dick like he’s contagious, but Bruce breaks them up before a fight can break out, and takes Tim aside in the hallway. Whatever he says must work because Tim leaves him alone after that.

He can’t help but feel a little bitter toward Wally, too, when he leaves. Selena tells him one night that he’s trying to find answers, to save Dick, but all Damian can think is that he should _be_ there. He begrudgingly accepts it though, but West had better get back with help soon because he absolutely refuses to watch the most important person in his life waste away like this.

He tells Dick as much one night before Visiting Hours end. He is absolutely forbidden from dying.


	3. Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of rambling from Jason's perspective. I may add more from the Batfam but this is all I have for now.

So, Jason is with Dick on Patrol one night. Pretty routine stuff, they’re trying to get a lead on Black Mask’s new supplier or something like that, high above the city and going between working in tandem, joking with each other, and bickering over how to carry this out. Jason’s relationship with the family isn’t exactly the best. He still feels like the black sheep, and at times doesn’t even know if he considers them family - but Dick’s always the first to try to work with him, so at least there’s that. It’s a work in progress. Dick asks Jason if he’s going to go to that Charity Gala. Jason laughs in his face. Again, a pretty normal night. 

But as the night goes on, Jason starts to notice that Dick is - off. He’s starting to not act like himself, he’s spaced out, and literally just off balance. When they stop a mugging (off their main objective for the night but what can ya do?), and Dick’s struggling to keep up, Jason has to finish the job and get him the hell out of there. Jason drags them up to a rooftop, out of sight, and Dick just leans back against a water tank holding his head in his hands. 

And Jason just kind of… stands there. Like he really doesn’t know what to do. Dick’s breathing like he’s trying not to throw up, and his arms are shaking, and okay, that’s it, what the _fuck_ , man? Dick tries to assure Jason that he’s fine, it’ll pass, but Jason’s already got his comm on because fuck this, he’s calling Wally to come take his ass home. But Dick stops Jason before he can call, because he _really_ doesn’t want to freak Wally out after what happened a few weeks back. Jason takes off his helmet at that point, just so he can hit Dick with that “are you fucking stupid” look. 

Dick tells Jason about his collapse, tries to dim it down as a fainting episode because he was overworked. It’s _nothing_ , Jay. Seriously. Jason relents, but only if Dick goes the fuck home and - takes a nap, a day off, _something_. Dick laughs it off, but agrees. 

He thinks that’s the end of it. 

The night of the Gala comes, Jason’s sitting in his apartment, watching TV, flicking through the channels, and scrolling through his phone. He’s on twitter when he starts seeing tweets pop up about something happening at that Charity Gala. He’s almost forgotten about that, and it takes him passing a few tweets to remember that his family is there. When he checks the trending page, he sees one headline. 

_Dick Grayson, Son Of Billionaire Bruce Wayne, Suffers Seizure at Annual Gotham Charity Gala._

Jason turns the channel to the local news. There are already photos and video footage being circulated. He doesn’t really have the mindset to be appalled by the press, how they’re _so close_ and doing _nothing_ but taking advantage of the situation (though he certainly has the mindset to think about it later and he’s fucking _furious_ ). He’s too busy watching it all in full detail. What started out as a few sneaky shots of Dick and Wally dancing together like it’s something scandalous turns into vivid footage – Jason watches as Dick goes limp in Wally’s arms, sees the panic on Wally’s face as he shouts his name (audio cut out by the obnoxious drone of the reporters), sees as Dick starts to convulse on the floor, the Gala erupting into chaos, Barbara pushing herself between the scene and the camera, screaming at them, the camera cutting to a different angle as Bruce drops down beside Dick, loosening his tie and checking his pulse, talking to him when he comes to, keeping Wally calm – another angle as paramedics rush in with a stretcher, another angle of the ambulance and flashing red and blue lights outside.

That’s how Jason finds out. By the time the story ends and the news turns its attention to the next, Jason realizes that this had all happened an hour ago. In hindsight, its understandable that he didn’t get a call or text right away, it was all chaotic and happened so fast, but for the moment he’s _pissed_ that he had to find out through fucking _twitter_ , and rightfully so.

When Jason arrives at the hospital, Bruce and the rest of the family aren’t there. Wally and Barbara are in the waiting room alone – and Wally looks so fucking wrecked that Jason’s anger depletes and revs up again, directed at the hospital staff keeping Wally out. He wants to start an uproar but Barbara tells him to leave it, that Bruce already threw the mother of all uproars about it. Both out of spite to the staff, and admittedly a desire to _not_ be in a tense room with Bruce for the chance they’ll both end up snapping at each other, Jason waits outside with them until Wally and Babs are allowed in. Which is when, being the true brother he is, Jason _tattles_ on Dick, telling Wally and Bruce about his episode during patrol. Dick’s awake, aware, and feeling himself enough to slowly shrink down in his bed with a sheepish shrug at his boyfriend’s frustration.

From there on out, it’s sort of the same as everyone else in the family. They’re all worried about Dick, but the migraines and seizures start out as few and far between. Then it gets worse. And it’s fucking _hard_ watching Dick of all people go through that. Because he’s really the glue that keeps the family together. He’s the one who checks Bruce, who’s welcomed in each new comer, who just listens and accepts. He’s always been the strong one, and watching him slowly deteriorate is agonizing. Not being able to do anything is worse.

Jason’s at a bit of an awkward impasse in all of this, because he’s still not on the best terms with Bruce. But when Nightwing is out of commission, Red Hood steps up. Bruce doesn’t readily accept him at first, because they’re both too stubborn to actually sit down and talk, but eventually they just set aside their differences and work together. After all, they did it once, didn’t they? It may have felt like a lifetime ago, but they used to be partners, and they used to be _good_.

The wedding comes up. Jason is all too happy to get in on Wally’s scheme, keeping Dick busy until he gets the go ahead. At some point in the night, he finds himself looking around and realizing that _oh shit, this really is his family._

It’s not until Dick is admitted to the ICU, when Wally’s off chasing down answers across the globe, and Dick’s barely conscious between seizures, that Jason and Bruce actually talk. It’s late afternoon on a rainy, shitty day. Duke, Cass, Tim, and Damian are all at school. It’s just Bruce and Jason in the dark, quiet room, sitting on a few chairs in the corner (it’s a private room , and a Wayne owned hospital, so Dick is comfortable. It’s practically a small apartment). It’s awkward, and too quiet aside from the monitors. They both just crack, start to talk at the same time, but can’t get more than a few words out before they realize the other is talking, and it turns into a bit of a match of “no, you go ahead”, “you first”, until they both get frustrated – and then they both sort of laugh quietly because they really are too much alike. They talk for a bit, air things out, and while they know they’ll never agree on everything, it’s – well, it’s better. But then Dick is waking up and asking for Wally and reality comes creeping back in.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not in the business of heavy angst without payoff. Most of the time, anyway.
> 
> I have a few other side stories from the perspective of Jason and Damian, and I'm working on one from Bruce, so I may attach those here along with other POVs and addictions. For now, though, you can find those ones on my tumblr. 
> 
> [「TUMBLR」](https://novaviis.tumblr.com) [「TWITTER」](https://twitter.com/novaviis)


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